


Hot Stripper Guy

by Swlfangirl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crack?, Don't hate me if it sucks, I think it probably sucks., M for language, M/M, TFLN Challenge, i'm not sure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 14:51:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3573734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swlfangirl/pseuds/Swlfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Definitely almost got hit in the face with a baby. -Stiles</p><p>Whatt???? -Derek</p><p>I’m pretty sure that speaks for itself, Derek. -Stiles</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Stripper Guy

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the TFLN prompt:
> 
> (859): Definitely almost got hit in the face with a baby.

Stiles fumbled through the bathroom door jerking wildly as he tripped over the half inch difference in flooring. Giggling slightly, he regained his composure, or at least as much as he could, being completely and utterly wasted. So what if he was a little worse than he’d anticipated. His best friend in the whole world was getting married and the least he could do was help the guy celebrate in style.

 

The strippers were even better than he’d expected, but then again, it wasn’t as if he’d actually been to a strip club before so he had similarly inexperienced expectations. The two girls were gorgeous, and barely clothed which were definitely two of Stiles’ favorite things. Scott, of course didn’t show much interest, but that was his buddy. A serial monogamist.

 

The guy, however…  ticked Stiles’ number on the Kinsey scale up quite a few notches. Being that Stiles and Scott never really succeeded in fanning out of their very intimate, very small friendship circle, he’d not ran into too many openly gay or bi guys that he’d been attracted to, meaning it hadn’t really ever been an issue. Stiles was very good at falling for females, so it seemed easier to just stick with that. It’s not like he had anyone from any gender falling all over themselves to get a piece of him.  So rejection from one group was plenty. Why rock the boat, right?

 

Stiles was just about to unzip when he heard the door open and flicked his gaze back toward it.

 

_Oh God, hot stripper guy is here, what should I do, damnnit, what the fuck am I gonna do._

 

“I suggest asking for his number, or you could just stand there staring,” hot stripper guy said. Stiles felt his eyes widen as he realized he’d actually said the thought aloud, and then he remembered that hot stripper guy had wanted him to ask for his number, which was a good sign right?

 

“Uhh, sorry.. I uh. really? I mean… I’m drunk as fuck right now but I’d love to take you out once I sober up a little, and y’know when I’m not responsible for best-man duties.

 

Hot stripper guy just rolled his eyes and laughed a little. “Give me your phone, I’ll put my number in.”

 

Unable to find his filter Stiles spoke and said some words he really shouldn’t have like, “Are you sure? I mean… you don’t even know my name or anything.” He could kick himself for asking hot stripper guy to second guess himself, because he should really just be super happy with what he had and not say stupid things.

 

“Your name is Stiles, and yeah, I’m sure.”

 

Okay so it wasn’t as much of the scoff he meant to make, as it was an indignant squawk. Something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.  “How’dddd, howwww did you even know that?” he asked, not even slurring a bit.

 

“I have ears, and people have been calling you that all night.. it wasn’t that hard to figure out.” The greenish, he couldn’t think enough at the moment to decide what color they were, eyes were gorgeous. Stiles made a note to explore color palettes later, he still needed to take a leak and he knew if he said anything else he’d end up making an even bigger fool of himself.

 

He handed  over his phone silently, fighting hard to not ask hot stripper guy’s name. He’s sure he’d recognize a new name and number in his phone, it’s not like his speed dial was completely full or anything.

 

Thankfully, as soon as hot stripper guy put his phone back in his hand he nodded toward the door and left. Stiles hurriedly pulled at his zipper feeling relief flood through him as his bladder emptied.

 

When he got back into lounge of the hotel they’d rented out, He searched the room quickly, zero’ing in on his best friend who had a forbidden phone held up to his ear.

 

“Noooooo,” he called out, struggling to be coordinated enough to maneuver throughout the room without toppling over. He leapt toward Scott, flinging himself over a small couch and onto his friend’s lap. “Dude, we agreed that there would be _NO_ Allison tonight! Lydia is going to kill me if she catches you two!”

 

Scotty wasn’t listening, why doesn’t he ever listen. Stiles is always right, and his best friend should always do what he said, or doesn’t say in this case. _Fuck, I’m a little too wasted to handle this properly,_ he thought to himself. “C’mon, man. You know what Lydia is like when she’s mad. The girl is a so beautiful statues should be erected in her honor, but she’s also downright vicious. Like a little perfect, docile hen until you piss her off and she pecks your eyes out,” he begged, making a beak-like formation with his fingers and attacked Scott’s face with them.

 

Thankfully, that got him off the phone and Stiles immediately scrambled to right himself on the couch beside his best bud “Dude, I have the best idea EVER!”

 

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” Scott asked, looking at him with that fond puppy dog expression that became one of the only constants throughout their rollercoaster friendship.

 

“We should have a tricycle race!” he beamed, excitedly remembering all the times they’d challenged one another to do it. No matter what happened, no matter how bad it got, by the time the competition was over they were both laughing too hard to be angry anymore. It was one of his favorite things to do with his best friend, and he suspected that the tradition wouldn’t last much longer.

 

“I would love to do that, buddy. We can’t though. Remember, mom threw the bikes out last time.” His friend patted him on the shoulder but he didn’t look nearly as upset about it as he should have. Stiles’ chest was hurting and he just knew that it had to be done. If they didn’t celebrate Scotty’s last night as a bachelor with this epic battle, well they’d never get the chance again.

 

He thought, and thought, which meant he was about halfway close to making sense in his head. It might have taken longer than he expected but eventually it came to him. Stiles popped up off the couch like a rocket. “Dude, Walmart!”

 

Scott’s brow turned down in confusion until his eyes went wide with understanding. “Stiles, are you serious? We could get in a lot of trouble and you know your dad would just make it worse if he caught us. I don’t want to go through the _Sheriff Stilinski’s Scared Straight Program_ again!”

 

“Oh, Scotty. You know what you’re problem is? You’ve got no faith man, It’s not like we’re gonna get caught! Just leave it all up to me! I’m the plan guy, r’member?” he asked, offering his hand out to help his friend up which was honestly, not the best idea but he needed Scott vertical if they were going to get anywhere.

 

“Heyyyyy, Jacksonnnnn” Stiles yelled through the crowd. Lydia had forced her douchebag boyfriend on them for the bachelor party, granted she did make a valid point when she mentioned that two people wasn’t really enough to consider it a party, but nonetheless. At least she’d had the decency to volunteer him for DD duties before she had twirled beautifully and walked out of the room.

 

“Please tell me this means you’re ready to leave so I can be done with you geeks, Stilinski.” Jackson wasn’t a very nice person, did he mention that? Cause really the guy had pissed him off even back in elementary school, and prepubescent Stiles loved everyone. Him and Scott were a lot alike back then, before… well, before he became a little less optimistic and a little more realistic.

 

“Shut up, Jaaaacksonnnnn,” he answered, drawing the name out much longer than he’d actually meant to. He knew it was literally one of the worst comebacks, but he was super drunk so he cut himself some slack and moved on. “We need you to take us to Walmart. Scotty and I have an epic battle to fight before he takes the big plunge.”

 

He didn’t miss the eyeroll given off by the king of douchebags, but he knew that it didn’t matter. No one went against Lydia’s instruction, least of all Jackson. He may as well have been her personal errand boy.

 

“Fine, but we’re taking your piece of crap. I’m not giving you the chance to throw up in my Porsche,” he said, bumping their shoulders a little as he headed toward the door.

 

He moved in the same direction, weaving just a little up the uneven staircase. Stiles felt Scott’s arm wrap over his shoulder, steadying him as they followed Jackson outside. His best friend was the best, he made such an awesome choice. _“Good Job, kid Stiles,_ ” he praised to the younger version of himself. Offering up a mental fistbump to the little guy. Well, he deserved it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

During the forever long rant their driver decided to lay on them, Stiles tried to distract himself. He wanted so badly to tell the asshole off, but he knew that if KingDouche left them there, they’d have to call his dad or Melissa, and neither of those things were looking very appealing. He took out his phone and noticed the new name almost immediately.

 

_Derek_

 

Doesn’t that just sound like a hot, broody, stripper? Well, not really but it was, and Stiles was pretty damn happy about the revelation. He sent a quick text, just to let the guy know he was interested, it couldn’t hurt right?

 

**Heyyyy, I found your number in my phone. So it seems your name is Derek. I like that name, kinda cool. Not as cool as mine, but you know… Not everyone can be batman. -Stiles**

 

It only took about a minute before he felt the vibration of his phone against his leg.

 

**Sleep it off, text me in the morning. -Derek**

 

 _Rude,_ he thought to himself as his mouth made a very external scoffing noise. Scott turned to him, questioning his entire existence with those big brown eyes. Okay so maybe Stiles had a thing for the dramatics when he was a little tipsy, it was still a pretty irresistible stare.

 

“Who are you texting? If I’m not allowed to call Allison, you’re not allowed to talk to Lydia!” Scotty’s arms folded across his chest, it was so adorable. Stiles would be surprised if the next words out of his mouth weren’t “it’s not fair,”

 

“It’s not Lydia. It’s a guy, and he apparently doesn’t want to talk to me, which y’know, only makes me want to text him even harder.” Stiles flipped his phone around so Scott could see the message and smiled along with him when his lips widened and his cheeks rose proudly.

 

“Dude, that’s awesome, but uh...who is Derek?”

 

He almost didn’t want to answer, but with the alcohol working as a very stealthy lubricant to his fairly non-existent filter, his mouth was moving pretty quickly. “Oh, he was the stripper from earlier. Gave me his number in the bathroom. It wasn’t as weird as it probably should have been, but he was hot… so that’s probably why.”

 

“No way,” he heard from the front of his jeep. Apparently, KingDoucheFace picked up eavesdropping as a new hobby. _Great._

 

“Shut up, Jackson. He did too. His name is Derek, and he’s in my phone now. We’re totally phone buddies.” Quickly his eyes shifted over to Scott as he blurted out the rest of his thoughts. “Oh my God! He likes me, like he went out of his way to give me his number. How am I just now processing this.

 

“No way in hell a guy that looked like that wanted anything to do with you, Stilinski. You’re probably just hallucinating again,” Jackson said, laughing.

 

_Asshole._

 

“It was one time, and even Allison will tell you there was something in that punch at Lydia’s party!” Stiles jerked his head back indignantly, because he was being unfairly judged by Jackson, freaking, Whittemore.

 

“I believe you, Stiles,” said Scott. His best friend smiling over at him like the happiest guy in the world, which was basically just his normal face, but nonetheless it was awesome.

 

“Thank you,man. That is the reason we work.” He wrapped his arms around the broadened shoulders of his friend and tried not to tip over into his lap when they took a harsh right. They were almost to their destination, or he assumed they were because the buildings and lights were speeding by the car so fast he couldn’t recognize their location. Stupid, Jackson and his need for speed. The swirling lights made him feel a little queasy, but he wasn’t going to speak up. The last thing he wanted was KingDoucheFace kicking him out of his own damn jeep because he thought Stiles was gonna upchuck all over the place.

 

Instead he kept his mouth surprisingly quiet for the amount of alcohol in his system and let Scott’s goofy rambling about Allison soothe his nausea. All the while their driver harped about what an inconvenience they’d become in his life. After so being over Jackson’s ComplaintFest 15’ they finally pulled into the Walmart parking lot.

 

Stiles was just getting ready to step out of his jeep when Scott pulled him back into his seat. “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

 

“Yeah, man. Let’s do this!” Stiles shouted, pulling himself out of the back of his jeep.

 

Stiles was not anticipating the price of tricycles.

 

“Fifty bucks for a racing tricycle? fuck, man. That mean’s it’s gonna be over a hundred bucks and we’ll probably only get one good race out of them. You know Allison isn’t going to let you do this once you’re married and shit.

 

“Don’t worry about it, Stiles. I’ll just take you out for curly fries, my treat. Totally make up for talking to my fiance’ during your epic bachelor party,” Scott smiled, playfully pushing against his shoulder.

 

“Yeah, no that’s fine… I guess,” he replied, unable and mostly unwilling to hide his blatant disappointment.

 

They were getting ready to walk back outside when the metaphorical light bulb went off.

 

“Duuuuude, We could just race in the store!” Stiles jumped, his arms swinging out and across his front as his excitement was pulled through every pulsing vein.

 

“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.” Scott reminded him.

 

“Pssht, it’ll be fine. It’s not like dad’s going to lock us up over drunk tricycle racing on your last night as a free man!” Stiles rushed back toward the toy aisles where there had been a shiny red trike on display. He pulled it off the shelf just as Scott caught up with him.

 

“Dude, you time me and then I’ll do the same for you. That way we know who wins.” Stiles said, his face beaming encouragement. Scott just nodded in agreement with a goofy look on his face. He typed out a quick message before he took off through the narrow walkway, or ride-way, whatever the path to the shoe department which was his self-designated turnaround point.

 

**Getting ready to make history. -Stiles**

 

His long legs fit even less comfortably than they had the last time they’d raced, stuck out at odd angles. It made him have to take up the entire aisle to keep from hitting his knees on the side shelves. He turned a corner around the last row of toys and nearly ran right into a huge display to keep from knocking over an old lady.

 

Just when he thought he was clear, the wheel locked up and he jerked forward into a stack of dolls. A huge box containing what looked eerily similar to a real live baby, only missed his head by a quarter of an inch. He knew there was no way he was going to win now, but he got back on the small red death wagon and made his way back to Scott as quickly as possible.

 

Once he’d gotten back and Scott’s bright smile was beaming at him he stood up, trying to regain some of his manly composure.

 

“You’re turn.”

 

Scott smiled and took his seat, shaking his head the entire time. Once he’d gotten past the third row Stiles just grinned as wide as he could. He knew his friend was placating him, but the fact that he cared enough to do it was always what mattered most to Stiles.

 

He checked his phone, chuckling at the fact that Derek responded.

 

**I’m pretty sure you can’t make history if you’re sleeping it off like I told you to. -Derek**

**Stiles, Don’t do anything stupid. -Derek**

**You’re doing something stupid aren’t you? -Derek.**

 

If he were a better man he wouldn’t have laughed with a stupid dopey look on his face all because a hot guy was worried about his drunk ass.

**Definitely almost got hit in the face with a baby. -Stiles**

**Whatt???? -Derek**

**I’m pretty sure that speaks for itself, Derek. -Stiles**

**You’re going to be a pain in my ass aren’t you? -Derek**

**Hopefully, and then you can be a pain in mine :p -Stiles**

 

Derek sent a picture of himself facepalming, but Stiles just laughed and made it his new background.

 

 


End file.
